


Mocking the Cacodemon

by skullosaurus



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Anger, M/M, Punishment, Trauma, bad childhood, kinda fast, might be slight non-con, monopolized kidnapping, more tags to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2018-11-22 01:31:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11369766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skullosaurus/pseuds/skullosaurus
Summary: Marluxia, younger and having just been implemented into the Organization 13’s ranks, finds trouble and punishment at the hands of a delighted Xigbar.





	1. Chapter 1

The cover of darkness slowly lifted as light began to spread over the young man’s eyelids. Eyes scrunching, the man lifted an arm to shield his face from the harsh sunlight, until his foggy mind began to refocus, and the afore-night's events resurfaced. He had died, he was sure of it. The heartless had climbed the castle walls once again, but he hadn’t been able to fend them off. He’d failed his duty of protecting the gardens.  
Lifting his torso, the pink haired man warily opened his eyes to look about. He was exactly where he’d been slain. The rows upon rows of roses and tulips about him were half decayed and trampled. He felt no surge of disappointment, but instead a hollowness within his chest became uncomfortably present. He had tended to these buds for a while now, careful enough to keep them alive so they could open their lids and show off their colors.  
‘What a shame,’ he mused, as he groggily sat amongst the ruined flowers, his muscles tired and and his mind surprisingly clear for all that has happened.  
If he had died to the heartless, why was he still here?  
If anything, his failure means that the heartless must have reached the castle. There wasn’t as many guards as there had been decades ago, and it would not come as a surprise if many of the inhabitants had died.  
The man thought of his siblings, and of his parents.  
This would have been enough incentive for him to get up.  
But the rosey smell about him allowed him to calmly breathe in and close his eyes.  
If he had failed and died, he certainly wouldn’t be allowed to call himself family to royalty. If they were still alive.

He stayed where he was, sitting among the flowers, breathing slowly and letting himself relax. He should be feeling things by now, he should be worried, stressed and fearful. But he wasn’t. It was relaxing, in a way, to have a clear head and heart. Everything that had been bothering him had melted away until they were just reminiscent memories. It slightly elevated the man, but it did not last long.  
As long as he enjoyed the sun’s warmth on his soft face, nothing else seemed to matter to him.  
He did not hear the approaching footsteps dampened by earth.  
He opened his eyes once he couldn’t feel warmth on his face. A shadow had fallen upon him, and as he slowly raised his eyes from the black boots up to the ruggish faces belonging to the two figures before him, he knew there was a sense of a new beginning happening.

These two people, clad in black robes, one sporting an eyepatch and a scar, the other dreadlocks, held nothing but a dangerous aura about them. The one with the scar was holding a wolfish grin, while the other’s face was steeled and his purple velvety eyes cold.  
The pink haired man didn’t know what to say, as the two strangers loomed about him, that was until the one with the eyepatch spoke.  
“Say, I’ve got a nickname for this one already.”

The dreadlock man didn’t seem to acknowledge the eyepatch man’s words, as he simply stared on down at the younger man.  
This didn’t stop the eyepatch man at all, if anything, he was pulling off a display, as far as the pink haired one could tell.

“This one’s definitely a cute little pink haired Pansy.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapters ahoy!

Whatever these people wanted from the pink haired man, they weren’t keen on eluding. The one with the eyepatch swiveled his head around to examine the surroundings, his long ponytail moving with the wind. The other one simple held his arms behind him, waiting patiently.  
It seemed something unspoken went on between the two older men, and the man on the ground was having vague thoughts of escaping. They were dispelled however once the one with the ponytail leant over with a skewed face.  
“What, can’t you talk? At least stand up to greet us, rude boy.”

A frown laced the pink haired man’s face, and he struggled to get himself up and standing. These people were not from the land, and they did not seem to know of his highblood.  
“You’d do best to not address royalty like that, strangers.”  
Even if he could be considered an outcast rather than royalty, he was sure to extend the proper treatment to those who’d insult royalty.  
“State your business here.”

The two cloaked men glanced shortly at each other dismissively, before the ponytailed one responded: “Royalty and whatever, you’re our business.”  
“Whether willingly or not,” the other man with the dreadlocks spoke up for once, his tone soft yet ice cold, “You have no place here anymore and it would be foolish to stay.”  
The man with the scar nodded, prodding the pink haired man’s shoulder, “Xaldin’s right. You’re not a normal human anymore. Our kind shouldn’t be hanging around here attracting any sort of attention.”  
“Our kind?” the rosy haired man trailed after the words, keying together all the information he could glean from their short sentences. He had most definitely died last evening, but the way the other two spoke made it sound like they shared the same sinking boat, making them appear like equals. And they were possibly using this to coerce him into coming with them to some place.  
He steeled his eyes, brows furrowed. This could become seriously dangerous. Even if he’d failed his duties, he had to check in on the castle.  
He wouldn’t let them get in his way.

“If you think of kidnapping me, there’s no use. The castle won’t shell out anything for my life.” He informed them, one foot slowly sliding backwards, unnoticeable, “Whatever you speak of, which I have yet to understand, I’ll listen. ”

The two black cloaked men weren’t standing in his way, per se. Yet the trouble was that the pink haired man could see that he wouldn’t get far if he were to run. Both of the older men bore strong shoulders and broad chests, and he had to calculate in the fact they might have some sort of otherworldly power.


	3. Chapter 3

The ponytailed man’s smile was more of a leer as he clamped on hand down harshly on the younger man’s shoulder, the latter narrowing his eyes in response, “What makes you think this is a kidnapping? Consider us as a helping hand for a better future.”  
The younger one shifted his shoulder out of the grasp, turning away from them with his jaws clenched, “Then you won’t mind me informing my family of this pleasantry.”

The pink haired man was quite nimble. He wasn’t as fast as some of the sprinters and not as strong as the weightlifters intown. This didn’t stop him from reaching the other side of the garden in no time before he realized that the ponytailed man materialized right where he was about to rush to.  
He managed to outstep the sudden flash of arms flailing above his head as he ducked and continued running out of the garden and into the white glazed walls of the castle hallways.  
The one man with the dreadlocks would find a way to block his path, the pink haired man thought, whizzing past columns before he heard a thud right behind him. Whatever that sound made, it tore the young man down with it, and he lay sprawled on the floor, glancing wildly behind him at the lance that had burrowed itself in his shirt and into the floor, barely missing the frail skin. Then his glance fell upwards at the two figures advancing towards him.  
Cursing under his breath, he could distantly hear the eyepatch man’s voice jokingly declare something, something along the lines of how ‘this was all just a big misunderstanding’.   
Bringing his hands around the fabric lining the purple lace, he tugged harshly, letting the ruined cloth fall back as he scrambled back onto his feet.  
His brother would surely look upon him with disdain if he ever knew his younger brother had been running around like a mess.

His brother, the one who would get the throne, the one who had everything handed to him on a silver platter hoping it would turn him the best out of all the others. While throughout the young man’s childhood he had no positive relationship with his siblings, it had been turning for the better.  
He could nearly feel a longing to be back besides them, back when there had been no threats made on the castle walls and the lives of those inside.

His hair billowing behind him, the young man turned on his heel and jumped onto the ledge of a polished marble railing, bringing his arms up to hold onto the roof of the hallway as he precariously clambered for a hold to get him up.  
Just as he managed to bring his feet up and onto the brick tiled roof, he swore he felt the light touch of fingers on his boots before he was up and gone.  
Hearing angry mumbling below him, he didn’t waste time staying in the one spot of safety he was in. From where he was, he’d be able to climb into one of the windows of the castle.  
Thankfully, it was open and with several swift movements he was up and within the walls.


	4. Chapter 4

The hallways within the castle were cool and empty, the sun not reaching far through the windows and the cracks in the stone walls. There was no one about as the young man quickly made his way, searching for those he knew who could put the trespassers into their rightful places. Every room he passed by, which he expected to have some person in it that he knew, bore nothingness, as if time had sucked the people away and left nothing but the pink haired man alone.   
This however couldn’t be true. His brother was an excellent fighter, his other siblings wise and smart enough to find a way to save themselves if anything happened at the castle.  
Sudden footsteps somewhere behind him brought him out of the past and back into the rush of running through the corridors not knowing where the enemy lay.  
It seemed he was possibly outrunning whichever one of the men was following him, but once he was about to turn a corner, hearing voices softly lilt through his ears, he was painfully brought down to the ground once more.  
It was the ponytailed man, his weight on the back of the younger one and his hands grinding the wrists of the latter against the cool floor.  
In the corner of his eye, he could see the boots that belonged to the other dark haired man.

The one on his back shushed him before he could speak out, and he shuddered when he found the voice belonging to the man on top of him speak near his ear.  
“You don’t want to miss this.”  
Eyebrows raised, the pink haired man attempted to raise his head, but the dreadlocked man placed a solid boot on top of his head.  
As if on cue, the voices that had seemed to be so far off distant were so close and loud- the voices of his family.  
Eyes swiveling about to look just around the corner he had wanted to reach, he saw them, in all their glory.  
Sitting among themselves, away from the workers and the lesser relatives, sat his siblings. All proper and without a hair out of place. It was so them, the pink haired man thought, before he focused on the words that were coming out of their mouths.  
“Only someone like him would be killed on dirty earth.”   
The voice belonged to his older sister, a beautiful thing hiding so much anger towards the eldest brother. Her rosy hair billowed down to her waist, and her face was still and calm like it always had been throughout his childhood memories.  
“It would serve him right, after how long he’s disturbed us with his peasantry.”  
The words struck down on the pinned man, but he was far from hurt. He should be, he thought, but he couldn’t muster the strength to even dwell upon it. Of course they despised him. He waited for the pang of hurt that would inevitably seep into his heart, but it never came. And so he listened on.  
“Did anyone actually see him get clobbered out there? He might just be-.”  
This was his oldest brother, a person he so admired and hated at the same time, yet at a time like this, the young man couldn’t feel anything at all.  
“Stop. Stop pretending to care. You’re looking for excuses to go search for him. There’s no need to take pity on him anymore.”   
The eldest sister again. The other younger ones seemed to be idly listening on, indifference sprawled upon their soft and pale faces.  
A sigh which seemed to breeze through the young man’s soul escaped his older brother.  
“You are right.”

It seemed the point had been made, as the weight above him shifted and a hand was extended out towards him.  
“How sad this all is. Seems like none of them died. Our offer still stands though.”  
“Why would it matter if I came with you.”

The stark yellow eyes bore into his face as the young man simply looked up at him, refusing the offered hand. How had he not noticed them before?  
“You aren’t the only lonely soul out in the worlds. Our little group can help you understand what you’ve changed into.”  
“And what can be done to undo it.” The dreadlocked man- Xaldin, was it?- added.

The pink haired man knew he didn’t bode well amongst his family members, but they had shared times together that he’d hold onto. If they didn’t accept who he was at the moment, he might as well use the opportunity to follow these strangers, and see where it took him. If it meant coming back one day and setting things right with his siblings. He’d do it.  
Placing one hand on the cold wall, he straightened himself off the ground, and nodded, his eyes stuck on the faint haze of light that softly poured out of the room. The room he should be in right now if things had been right from the start.


	5. Chapter 5

The transition from lying dead amongst the flowers to leaving his family behind to follow two strangers into a whirling mass of darkness was one akin to drowning. Just very, very fast.  
Whatever he had been feeling before the heartless took him was leaving his body- like pockets of air would escape nostrils when diving. There was no break for air though, there was no re-emerging into the world of emotions. There was nothingness within him.  
The two burly men didn’t lay a hand on him once the pink haired man agreed to follow them, and they had promptly summoned some sort of dark purple portal. Stepping through it wasn’t exactly comfortable, as the realm behind it was so dark- so unbelievably cold and still, he couldn’t help embracing himself or suppress his shivers. Another portal had appeared at the other end, and through that, the two strangers had lead him straight to his new home. If he could call it that.  
Whatever the place was, it was just as still and dreary as the portal. Cold, white floors and walls, with every scarce piece of furniture that lay about being the same color. It was so monotone and silent, the air itself seemed thick with an icy atmosphere.

Apparently it was a castle, housing many other members of this supposed organization. Once he entered the many long and hallowed hallways of it, he’d been led to a room and given a long black robe- it was thrown at him more than given, and the ponytailed man- Xigbar- had called it his ‘work uniform’. He supposed, calmly and without much interest, that this uniform would be a new identity, as he sought to find whatever future lay in this abysmal castle.  
When he finished pulling the black coat about him, the two men continued leading him further into the castle.

The castle, with its whitewashed walls, bore nothing relative to the pink haired man’s former home. His two strange companions lead him towards somewhere deep in the big, cold building, all the while informing him of what was to come. Xigbar was on one side of him, Xaldin on the other.  
    “The big man will give you a new name.”  
Xigbar didn’t hold himself as coldly as Xaldin did, therefore his words were light and playful. He seemed carefree and ignorant of the former royalty’s downfall. All along the corridors, he managed to glean enough information, connecting things and musing without having to speak a word for himself.  
Xaldin didn’t say much, but when he did, he was straightforward yet distanced. He didn’t care at all.  
Apparently, from what he could gather, he along with all others that resided here had lost their lives to the heartless- and lost their hearts. They had died but came back as empty husks incapable of feeling; Nobodies.  
There was also a leader, the head of this “Organization 13”, as Xaldin put it, who was in charge of their operation. The operation’s goal being to regain their hearts.

It sounded too perfect to be true. That he would be picked up by this clan to help him gather something he had seemingly lost. That he could return to his normal life as if nothing happened.

He also couldn’t fathom how it was possible to even live without a heart. He’d seen people die to the heartless countless times, but that there had been a possibility to survive such a thing- that would fundamentally change his home castle’s view on subjecting executions to heartless.  
He didn’t bother to fathom much on this thought. He was still stuck in a cleft between having died and not feeling. It was too strange to be true. His thoughts strayed far apart and he had a troublesome time redirecting his attention to the room he was in.

It was a huge circular room. Many white throne-like chairs rose high up, like hands reaching up to touch a ceiling that was too far up to even see. They varied in height, and upon them sat many black robed men. One of them had his hood down, and his long white hair framed his older, tanned face. He had cold yellow eyes that held no effort to see through him.  
This was the leader, Xemnas, he understood from what the other two had said. This leader announced in a low timbre his welcome, and thus his new name.  
“I am pleased to announce that a new comrade has been chosen to wear the coat”  
It didn’t sound bad, it flowed evenly over the tanned man’s tongue as he inducted him into the ranks of this group.  
“Let us all welcome: Marluxia.”

After his induction, Xigbar was the one who brought him through the hallways, dictating some of the rooms of use like reading off a grocery list. One hallway included bedrooms and short glances inside told newly named Marluxia that they were all white and they all looked interchangeable. He had to memorise his own room by counting the doorways from the staircase nearby.  
Xigbar told him there was still much to learn, and to see that Marluxia would fit well into the ranks. He told him that he was still to be taught of what they had planned.  
This meant that he was to be taught by Xigbar himself. This also meant he was to be taken out on ‘missions’, where his teacher would show him the ropes.  
Magnificent was the only word that he thought of as he listened to Xigbar’s energetic talking about how he was the best to teach him.


End file.
